What Tori Amos Told Me

Silent all these years and crucifying ourselves

Are you shy? I’ve not been asked this question often, I’ve been told that I am indeed shy. But I’m not. I’ve never felt shy, I am quiet, I am observant but I am bold in my element, I love meeting new people and I love to understand the vibe of a place, no—I need to understand the room and so I settle in slowly, I vibe with a place, people, situations…sometimes remarkably quickly, sometimes it takes longer. Sometimes a familiar place feels less familiar and I might appear aloof or stuck-up (another thing I’ve been told I am). I’m just sensitive and I like to let things integrate slowly into my being…sometimes.

We’re all complex. Sometimes we’re just good at wearing a mask that makes people more comfortable…and some of us aren’t. Some of us can go all our lives and never be able to wear that mask, or for some of us, we can never take it off. Others carry quirks around and let the mask fall or fit as it may.

Being a mother, or a woman or a person living in the modern, materialistic world means there are many, many rules to know, follow, believe (or pretend to), many masks to wear and when that is the norm, how could we not crucify ourselves at times?

We are forced to betray ourselves—just to get by. I went through a phase where I just couldn’t play the game, I couldn’t conceptualize it and I—unfortunately have a hard time doing things without really understanding why. Now I’ve realized there is a way to play a game that feels authentic to me and maybe sometimes I will wear a mask, and you could call that selling out or being fake, but I call it modern or spiritual warfare. I have to survive—and I prefer to do it in a way where my kids can fully experience a comfortable childhood that sets them up for a healthy adulthood.

So—I can’t live in the wilderness and completely avoid big-box chains and technology. I mean I probably could, but my choice is to not do that. There are sacrifices I prefer over the feeling of either martyrdom or self-righteousness.

So, why do we crucify ourselves, and why have we been silent all these years? Or…are we selectively silent? Or do our voices just sound differently when we hold a little more or a little less tension? Is it that we haven’t been heard because we’re a little quiet or less adamant than expected?

I don’t know. But I know that being observant and then following-up with conviction is important. I wrote a bit about it here.